


let's delay a little longer

by tinyfuriosa



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, now featuring Italian!Grantaire and (unsurprising to anyone) French!Enjolras, please forgive the author for liberal use of online translation services, tumblr ask prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyfuriosa/pseuds/tinyfuriosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras wouldn't mind putting off his trip back to Paris a little longer. Grantaire really needs to get there on time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's delay a little longer

Enjolras doesn’t mind the delay. In fact, they’re  _happy_  about it- any excuse to put off the visit their parents is completely welcome, and the fact that it’s due to a delayed flight and therefore totally out of Enjolras’ control just makes it even better.

Then the announcement comes that the flights are no longer just delayed, but  _cancelled_ , and they have to stomp out the urge to do a terribly childish fist pump of victory.

" _N_ _on sta succedendo davvero_ ," comes a despairing moan from the seat next to them, and Enjolras looks over from where they’re gleefully texting Combeferre to see a young man with one hand clenched tightly in his (very lovely) dark curls while he glares at the nearest intercom speaker as though it has personally wronged him.

Enjolras’ smile fades in the face of their neighbor’s obvious distress.

" _Stai bene_?"

"Are you alright, he asks!" He exclaims in English, without even sparing a glance for Enjolras, "Stuck in the middle of a snow storm in  _Rome_  when I must be in Paris by tomorrow night, my life is ruined, and he wonders if I am  _alright_! Hah!”

A moment of silence passes, with the man scowling now at one of the many employees wandering the area and Enjolras raising an eyebrow at him.

"I don’t think the heat of your look will make the snow melt any faster," they say after a moment.

With that glare now focused on them, Enjolras notes that the man’s eyes are  _also_ quite lovely, if cutting. The look only lasts a few seconds though, before his mouth ( _also_  lovely, for fuck’s sake) drops open and he seems to almost choke on nothing.

He is very strange, Enjolras decides. But they have always liked the strange ones.

"My name is Enjolras," they say, extending a hand.

His eyes dart down to it and then back to Enjolras’ face, then back and forth again, and then once more before he seems to come to a decision.

"Grantaire," he says, encasing the proffered hand in both of his own.

Enjolras huffs a surprised, delighted laugh.

"Grantaire, grand ‘R’, _c’est drôle_ ," they say with a smile.

Grantaire’s face scrunches in confusion, “Uhm? I don’t…are you laughing at my name? Because I will have you know,  _Ange_ -“

"Sorry, sorry, but it is a…play on…a pun! In French."

"Oh."

Another moment of silence between them.

" _Posso offrirti un caffè_ " Grantaire says quickly, as though needing to get the words out before he talks himself out of it.

"I…coffee? I’m sorry, my speaking Italian is very limited," Enjolras says hopefully.

"Yes! Would you like to get coffee? With me?"

” _Oui_.”

——-

"Wait," Grantaire says over his mug, "you speak English, so that means you heard when I was…"

"Talking about my incredible cheekbones and defined jaw? Yes."

"Fuck,  _oh mio_ -"

" _Je vous trouve très beau_ ," Enjolras says, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

Grantaire has no idea what he said, but can’t help blushing anyways.

——-

Enjolras gives Grantaire their ticket for the first flight out after the storm has cleared, making a show of writing his number in the booklet, and waves goodbye to him while telling Mother that yes, he will be back in Paris within a few days, and no, there were no earlier flights.


End file.
